I was reading an interview over on Dishevelled Domina’s blog, and got into an interesting conversation there, sparked by this:
“WHY do people kink on orgasm control? I personally don’t get the receiving end of it.
If someone tried to control my orgasms I’d knife them.”
- DD
That made me chuckle, it sounds just like my friend Stabbity 
I started thinking about it and expressed my thoughts as a comment on the interview. Check it out here!
I started a new little gathering here in Victoria BC, where we discuss philosophical topics around all things sexuality, kink, and related subjects. Last night we met up and got to talking about polyamory, and a friend of mine made an intriguing comment:
There are people in the poly community that aren’t into kink, and there are people in the kink community that aren’t into poly. Which is really too bad, because there’s so much overlap between the two; if you don’t take part in both it really restricts your choices.
- Stabbity
That really got me thinking… Let’s cast some wide nets and make some stereotypes together:
I’ve been to quite a few kink-oriented events, and I see a lot of people casually flirting. There are people trading off whipping duties at flogging stations. There are plenty of people playing together, and not necessarily with their partners (or, if they lack a partner: they aren’t exactly being any semblance of monogamous).
So as a kinkster at kink-events, I see poly-style-behaviour, just without any of the romance. Without any strings attached. Without emotional bonding. Kink itself seems to be treated as a commodity; heck, even sex is looked upon as “no big thing,” and scening with someone isn’t considered to be a breach of protocol to many people.
This is what I see at public events, which makes it easy to pass these off as weird and crazy swinger-parties, or one-night-stands or something, where you check your emotional baggage at the door. It doesn’t end there, though. These parties, multi- or other-partner scening, and other kink-related activities continue on to private parties, private hookups, and even just plain old-fashioned play-dates.
Again, though, it seems to lack the romance. It’s a means to an end; kinksters tend to define their kink as a core need in life, not [necessarily] as a foundation of a romantic relationship. I kind of look at it as if we’re all just good friends helping each other out.
Polyamorous communities (ones not founded with a kinky slant), on the other hand, deal a lot with the discussion of emotional attachment, love, romance, and all those feeling words. The pursuit of poly is really the pursuit of happiness in the relationship sense, which can put more weight on kink-events than a kinkster might.
If you were in a straight, vanilla, monogamous relationship – but you wanted to go to a kink event – your partner might take offense. The reason is that kink is seen as an expression of love, much like the act of sex itself. It might be difficult to convince your partner that you are just trying to satisfy some core need, that is beyond (and potentially even exclusive of) your romantic sphere.
Likewise, in a very open, no-holds-barred poly relationship, it might be difficult to convey to your partner(s) that a trip to a kink event was just a fun physical thing to do as opposed to you finding and meeting a new partner (or having a one-night-stand in the vanilla sense).
Your kink can be seen, within the poly community, as a sexual orientation instead of as an activity or a hobby; attending kink events could be seen as the equivalent of going to a swingers club, and taking on a kinky secondary partner might offend or threaten your primary (they’re providing something I’m not! gasp!).
I know I’m making a bunch of stereotypical blanket statements here, and even I’m cringing a little bit reading back those last two sections, but I hope I made my underlying point: In general, there seems to be a fundamental disconnect between Kink and Romance.
I’m not saying it’s impossible to build a link between the two; I know many exclusive monogamous kinksters that founded their relationships on kink. Even they, however, view the rest of the generalized-kink-scene with a disconnected eye; they believe what they have is different or special (and it may very well be!).
I think there’s a big discussion just below the surface here, and I’m just dipping my toes. I’d like to see a bigger seperation between Kink and Romance in the vanilla world, just as I’d like to see a seperation between Sex and Romance. But if we do that, we have to start declaring a difference between sexual orientation and romantic orientation, and I don’t think the world can handle that.
I wish that wasn’t the case. 
Anyway, I’m sure I’ve made some terrible leaps of logic here. Prove me wrong in the comments! Let’s keep this conversation going.
An acquaintance of mine, Anna Anthropy created a video game that’s really interesting. It only takes a few minutes to play, and it’ll run in your browser, so scurry off and play it right now! I don’t want to spoilers it for you.
So, why was this a video game? Penny Arcade Report asked the same question:
The first question is the most obvious: Why tell this story with a video game? Why not write about it? “Games have this capacity for exploring dynamics and systems that no other form does,” Anna Anthropy, the game’s creator, told the Penny Arcade Report. “This was a story about frustration – in what other form do people complain as much about being frustrated? A video game lets you set up goals for the player and make her fail to achieve them. A reader can’t fail a book. It’s an entirely different level of empathy.”
After you play the game, check out the rest of the PA Report article. They ask some interesting questions and make some good observations about the issues brought up in the game.
I’d even go so far as to say it’s required reading (playing?) for most kinksters out there; to obtain a better understanding of, and some empathy for, the subject matter.
When I originally wrote my “FemDom is Broken” article, it was done in a passionate fashion. That is to say, I didn’t take the time to carefully form my arguments, and the discussions on the article in the comment section were pretty exciting.
When I write things, though, I am not chiselling the concepts in stone; my opinions have clarified and changed over time, thanks to the feedback from others out there. The Femdom Resource actually quoted my article twice, and took the discussion to a more level-headed level. Check them out – here are some excerpts:
From Femdom Doesn’t Exist:
The fact we use this single term to describe such an incredibly varied and complex experience is always going to lead to problems. People want to feel a sense of ownership in their self-identified culture, which is difficult when the culture encompasses so much and is pulled in so many different directions. I think one helpful step would be to attach far less importance to the term femdom, and focus more effort on defining and naming the specific areas that appeal to us.
From Femdom is Broken:
I actually have a great deal of sympathy for the underlying point of the post. I’d like to see more material focused on genuine emotional connections between people. Random fetish elements and kinky trappings alone do nothing for me. However, I think a good underlying point is lost in a huge overreach, with big generalizations that just don’t stand up.
Thanks to paltego for the links!
Recently on a private forum post, I saw a group of men recounting how difficult it is for them to feel “masculine” while being submissive.
I can kind of understand where this is coming from – you have to retain that male identity, and yet you are behaving in a way that appears to contradict that. This dissonance can be very disruptive for some people. Some men want to feel like men.
What I don’t understand is why men need to define (for lack of better words) their male-ness beyond having a dick, and why masculinity (in the classical sense) is viewed as a good thing.
By worrying about being labelled incorrectly, you are implying that instead of appearing masculine and submissive.. you are appearing feminine. When you hear the word “masculinity” what do you think of? Strength, independence, aggression… So, ipso facto, you are declaring that to be feminine is to be weak, dependent, and passive.
Why not define “masculinity” as “having the strength to submit to others” or some-such? Obviously you are male, and you are being submissive. Define that as masculine, and you’re set! But that’s obviously not happening, since there appear to be whole reams of men that need to look at themselves differently.
I don’t get it. Why do submissive men feel the need to be masculine in that sense?
I made a guest post over at Dishevelled Domina‘s about a new word I found: Compersion. Here’s a quick excerpt:
I came across the idea of Compersion a few weeks ago as it drifted around the internet. I immediately jumped on Wikipedia to find out what it meant, and was taken off-guard. How had I not heard of this before?
The basic concept of the word is that it is the opposite of jealousy. So, if you break up with your significant other, and you are happy for them finding someone else – that’s Compersion. With a few leaps of logic you can extend it out to many facets of Kink – it seems like the whole concept of compersion might be mixed in with the mortar.
Head over there to read the whole thing, or to comment!
I made a guest post over at Dishevelled Domina‘s blog – it even has a Venn-diagram! Here’s a quick excerpt:
I don’t like kinky porn, and though I’ve written about it a few times I wasn’t quite sure exactly why I didn’t like it.
As I was lying in bed pondering, I realized it was the same reason why I’ve always been disappointed with local kink meetups, parties, and most kinky people in general.
I jumped up out of bed and whipped up this (grossly over-simplified) Venn-diagram…
Head over here if you want to read the whole thing or comment on the story!
Over at Not Just Bitchy‘s I made a post about how the term “FemDom” is not represented too well. Here’s a quick excerpt:
Is it just me, or does the typical FemDom presence on the planet seem shallow and cheap?
You’d be hard pressed to find a single collection of images, interviews, articles, or books that doesn’t make the cock (artifical or otherwise) the central star of the story. When did everything become about dicks and not about d/s? I’ll agree that kink is indeed about sexual energy, but that doesn’t mean that everything has to be focused on wangs…
Read the rest of the article over here! (And comment over there, too!)